I couldn't ask him for much;
I felt he was in a hurry.
He said, no time left behind,
and asked me to pluck the apple.
I said it wasn't ripe yet.
He said again, no time left behind,
and asked me to take the rope.
This time,
I said—
it is not the right time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem